Something Like This
by Hopless-case
Summary: From the smirk on my face, the blood boiling within my body, I am in control. Everything I do from here on out, is because of me. Is because I want to. Because I’m free. (It's not a very 'pretty' fic...)


From the moment we walk inside the apartment it's all teeth and hands. Lips and flesh, angry, desperate. No surprise. I've got my mouth buried in her neck, she's clinging onto the bed, my slick body sliding with hers. I only do this for an escape, not because I love her. So together we are in ecstasy and together we can escape, because we both know the truth behind all of it: Nothing. She's tight as always, and moaning my name, the only exact moment that she is free from herself. And when I moan out for her, it's for the same reason.  
  
From the smirk on my face, the blood boiling within my body, I am in control. Everything I do from here on out, is because of me. Is because I want to. Because I'm free. So walking out of the precinct, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders, a weight that will never come back. I was finished with them along time ago, everyone one of them, even the ones I didn't know. And the best thing? None of them will be able to tell who did it.  
  
Six Hours, Twenty minutes before:  
  
It's approximately 4:40 p.m. I am in a squad car, a marked squad car. Faith is in the small coffee place, getting herself something to drink. I am alone, I am at peace. She comes back at approximately 4:50, leaving six hours and ten minutes left of shift. It has been slow today, exceedingly slow, and me and Faith have absolutely nothing to talk about. Cruz is out today on some 'mission' of hers, so I'm stuck being beat cop with Yokas back in the good old 55 David. I'd rather kill myself.  
  
I know it may seem as if I've missed her, which I have, but our conversation an hour ago, which consisted of only constant yelling, left me a little more than angry.  
  
3:50 p.m.  
  
"So how things going in ACU, Boz?"  
  
"Pretty good, better than being out here."  
  
"Probably."  
  
"So what have you been up too?"  
  
"Having fun, doing my job."  
  
"Sounds....good."  
  
"It is. Me and Fred are taking the kids up to Coney Island this weekend."  
  
"How is the fam.?"  
  
"We're okay. Emily's still mad at me."  
  
"No surprise there."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I said, No surprise there. I mean, hell, I would be mad at you too."  
  
"Why the hell are you saying that?"  
  
"Hello?!?! Are you in there? So she had sex with some ass hole. She's a big girl, I'm sure she can figure it out for herself."  
  
"Well sorry if I don't want MY kid to end up like some slut like you, Bosco." She says my name with so must distaste, I think that it must taste bitter in her mouth.  
  
"I'm just saying!! GAWD!" I say back, hanging a hard right, "You don't have to get all pissy about it. This is why I'm glad I ain't on beat cop duty anymore."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"I'm not the one who started to act like a bitch." I tell her.  
  
"You are such a bastard, you know that?" She asks me, her eyes baring into my soul, searching for something to pop and kill me probably.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Whatever? God, you are such an immature child, Bosco. No wonder Cruz figured you were good enough for her little lap dog star."  
  
Ouch. I would like to interrupt and say that I did in fact know this, because I am not as stupid and thick headed as everyone thinks. It is not something that is a surprise to me, I knew this from the first time we kissed that night her sister died.  
  
So silence is followed by this remark, up until 4:40 when she asks me to stop the car so she can get some coffee. I have no reply.  
  
5:30 pm  
  
"So..." She starts.  
  
"So?" I ask hastily, a snide answer if I do say so.  
  
"Me and 55 Charlie had plans to meet up for dinner tonight."  
  
"Goody."  
  
"About now."  
  
"I could use some food and some time out of this car."  
  
"Good."  
  
We arrive at Danny's BBQ five minutes later, and sit down with Davis and Sullivan. The fat guy and the pansy ass, what a pair. It's pretty much awkward silence around us all, no surprise there. We're all just eating in silence, crunching fries are the only noise to be heard here. No one wants to break the tension, it's too thick. But like everything today, it must be messed up.  
  
"Got any plans for the weekend, Yokas?" Sully asks.  
  
"Coney Island." Smart, real smart Faith, don't elaborate how you did with me. And now you catch my glance, snorting a little from something that you don't believe in.  
  
"Should be fun." He says.  
  
"My ass..." I whisper.  
  
"What?" Faith asks, perking right up.  
  
"I said, My. Ass." I say harshly, finishing my fries.  
  
"Uh huh." She responds.  
  
The tension just grew.  
  
"What about you Boz, what are you doing?" Good ole Davis to the rescue.  
  
I answer him with a blank stare, and go back to eating.  
  
"Ooookay then." He replies.  
  
"What crawled up your ass, Boscorelli?" Sully asks.  
  
My head whips up at his words, I smile. "Tatiana." Ouch, two points me.  
  
He looks like he's going to kill me, just grabs his napkin, squeezes it real hard, his eyes staring into mine.  
  
"Lets go." Davis says, "We should be back out there anyways..."  
  
"Awwe, Don't stand up for him." I say, "We both know he's a little baby, but so are you. Never deciding if you want to die like your father, or the useless son." I say getting up.  
  
"You better watch your mouth." He warns me, but I'm already gone.  
  
Yokas comes out to the squad car a few minutes later, telling me to stop acting like such an asshole. I just drive off. Too much pent up anger, can't stay in the car with her or I'd kill her. I head back to the station, her eyes asking me all I need to know.  
  
"I need to get something from my locker."  
  
I turn off the car as we get into the station, it's now about 10:15. I take the keys, and get out. It's hot outside, I know she'll come in too. She does. Walking into the precinct, only one cop is in the front. I guess there was some call or something that we missed, damn. Or some meeting, wish I could be there.  
  
As soon as the locker room door closes, she's on me like a hawk devouring it's pray.  
  
"The hell is up with you lately, Bosco? Huh? I thought Sully was going to kill you today. If I was him, I would have too."  
  
"Well, sweetheart, you aren't him."  
  
"Sweetheart? Are you incredibly high or something, Bosco?"  
  
I turn, the anger in me drawing up like a bubble. I laugh, and pin her against the wall. She looks scared, terrified. Of me. "What's wrong, Faith? Scared?"  
  
"Get the fuck off me." She pushes me back a few paces, but I just laugh.  
  
Walking up closer to her again, my face inches from hers, I stop laughing. "I always thought..." I start, my hand pushing the loose strands of hair from her ponytail behind her ear, her face petrified into this one state of being. I can hear our breaths. They're there, together. Rhythmically. "That I could trust you, you know?" I ask softly, and move in closer. I can feel her heart beating now, faster and faster, she doesn't know what I'm doing. Neither do I.  
  
With our faces just millimeters apart, I kiss her, roughly. She's too stunned to even move, I think I've scared her. My hands are behind her head, and she's trying to push me away.  
  
"Bosco!! Bosco stop it! Stop!" Her voice is high and scared, my hands are pinning her shoulders back, and I can feel myself rolling into her. She's fucking scared, too scared to do anything logical. Her hands are pushing at me, trying to get me away, and tears are streaming down her face. In two seconds my gun is out of it's sheath, and up agianst her head. The cold metal is cocked, safety off. Her voice has stopped, her hands have started to stand still on my chest. Her breathing, if possible, quickens.  
  
"Bosco..." She starts, "What are you..."  
  
I tell her to shut up, not to talk, and I walk backwards, grinning at myself. It's still aimed at her head, and I pull the trigger.  
  
Walking out of the locker room, leaving her dead body behind, I raise my gun and shoot the guy in the front. He stares at me, before he dies, his eyes of innocence locking with mine. I wonder if it's so wrong that I don't' feel anything, no remorse, pain, sorrow. Nothing. By now, the others who have probably been shacked up in a conference room come out and find me with a gun raised, a dead man behind the desk. Swersky's the one who looks at me first, and he's the first to die. The others don't even have their guns on them, and why should they? They're inside, in the world that they thought was safe. And I shoot them all.  
  
10:59 pm  
  
All of the bodies are in the locker room. Davis', Sully's, Cruz', my other fellow partners. I have five empty magazines, ya, a few times I missed. And a few bystanders had to be killed, cause they decided to wander in. So now I feel a certain kind of peace, one that I hope will last forever.  
  
From the smirk on my face, the blood boiling within my body, I am in control. Everything I do from here on out, is because of me. Is because I want to. Because I'm free. So walking out of the precinct, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders, a weight that will never come back. I was finished with them along time ago, everyone one of them, even the ones I didn't know. And the best thing? None of them will be able to tell who did it. 


End file.
